


Bakery Treats

by Aithilin



Series: Festive Food Fluffs [17]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food Porn, M/M, slice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 04:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20203429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Nyx is only willing to travel across the city for one bakery.





	Bakery Treats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).

Nyx chose his favourite locations in the Crown City the same way he planned out war games and the urban training regiments for new Glaives. All of his favourites were close at hand; they were easy to get to, or lining familiar streets of his regular commute. His favourite bar was the centre point between all of his friends, and rest all just circled out from there. He wandered from shop to shop on the days he had off— on the way home from the headquarters downtown— picking up the small trinkets and tidbits that he favoured where he could. There was a street food stall in the heart of the city’s core, in the shadow of the Citadel; a little Galahdian shop halfway to home that carried his favourite beer; a fruit stall that set up at the edge of a festival park carried his favourite treats from home. 

His favourite bakery, however, was the one indulgence he crossed the city for. 

While there were plenty of smaller bakeries close to home— ones that specialized in the familiar treats and warmth that he remembered from a childhood raiding his mother’s kitchen on summer afternoons— there was only one that he would plan his whole day around. It was nestled in the long line of high end, luxurious Lucian establishments by the long shoreline of the seaside gates. It faced the chill Lucian seas and docks, with a view of the distant shining fortifications gleaming in the high shining sun. In a true Lucian fashion, it set out a handful of small tables to enjoy the view of the busy tourist streets and beaches. 

Some days, Nyx cursed Noctis for dragging him out there for the first time. 

Others— like today— he could spend hours browsing the long lines and shelves of confections and cupcakes. He could stand and admire the seasonal colours worked into the icings to compliment the bright glass and chrome nature of the city that birthed the designs. He had stood, on more than one occasion, perusing the descriptions of tarts and candy created specifically for the season while Noctis picked out handfuls and boxes of favourites to share. Nyx dragged along to carry the boxes of sweet smelling treats back to the Citadel conference rooms, or to Noctis’ spacious apartment. 

But he had rarely gone there without Noctis to lead him. To give him the excuse to admire the strange pastries of his adopted country. 

There were lines of savoury tarts that he had tried before— meats and creams blended together with the hint of Lucian spices and seasoning— the delicate nature of the balance providing a harmony that Nyx had found refreshing compared to the palate cleansers of Galahd. The hint of ginger and basil, fennel and turmeric, were worked through the meat fillings and rolls; a touch of rosemary here in the herbed breads, thyme in the heavy creams. The small, handheld accompaniments to an actual meal a burst of their own unique flavours. 

But Nyx was there for the lines and cases of the sweets.

There were cakes, no larger than his hand lining one chilled case; mousse frozen in place and decorated with paper-thin leaves of chocolate and sugar and coloured for the season. There were proper little cupcakes in pre-prepared boxes, an assortment of flavours and styles meant to draw the indecisive customers forward and save time for the bakers. But even with the hasty nature of the collection, each little cakes were decorated as elaborately as if made to order. There was Noctis’ favourite, affectionately noted as the “Royal”, with its spiced cake and heavy cream icing, made to look like the crest of a chocobo. 

There were similar boxes of macarons, strange colours advertising the flavours of each. And horns of puffed, crisped pasty waiting to be filled to order with a custard or cream. Little bowls of creme brulee waited in the chilled cases with fresh fruits, also coloured beneath the crisp sugar surface to suggest a connected flavour. There were rows and shelves of breads, still warm and steaming from the ovens; the herbs used to differentiate one from the other almost overpowering the sweet promise of sugar across the store. 

Nyx had arrived early, having been moving out of his way to visit the little shop. But the place was filling quickly. 

He made a selection and smiled as it was boxed up. The customary sticker and ribbon to keep the boxes closed applied with an efficiency Nyx had rarely seen outside of retail or the military. The bright smiles and requests to visit again were repeated again before Nyx had even left with his prize— the customer immediately after him subjected to the same niceties that Nyx was still confused by. The shop’s wide door with its bell chimed again and again, even as he squeezed through the crowd of peckish Lucians and out onto the summer streets. 

If he had been thinking ahead, he would have prepared the day better. He would have made arrangements for a table or suggestions of a royal visit to make the trip easier. Instead, he had made the suggestion on a whim, early in the morning, over lazy coffees and soft smiles. He had made the suggestion as he watched Noctis dump sugar into his morning coffee, testing his mixtures until Nyx was certain the real flavour was lost to some sugary sludge at the bottom of the mug. 

He had made the suggestion as they discussed breakfasts, and Noctis whined and needled affection in the morning sun sneaking its way into the apartment between heavy curtains. 

There was the promise of treats made, with his hands on Noctis’ hips. Kisses chasing away any doubt about going out so early just for a bakery nearly across town. 

The Star gleamed in the summer morning light, reflecting the park around it in its lovingly polished surface. And Noctis sat on the low wall in front of the car, watching the fishing boats move through the harbour, around the early ferries from Altissia and Galdin. The shade of a well-groomed tree keeping the worst of the sun from him. 

“What did you get?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“It’s not the Moogle Macarons again is it?”

“No, but that’s a good idea.”

The boxes were set between them, and the ribbon carefully pulled loose. Nyx swatted Noctis’ hand as he tried to help. As he tried to get a peek of the present waiting for him. 

They still had a few weeks yet. But Nyx was due for a tour out to the Cavaugh borders before the end of the month. And while safe, if meant that he would be away for their shared birthday. Away from the safety and comfort of the Crown City while Noctis navigated a battlefield of his own among the well wishing dignitaries and nobility. 

They would have to make do. 

“I think these are slightly healthier,” Nyx said as he presented the tarts from the box; “at least there’s fruit involved.”

“Don’t let Iggy hear you say that.”

The little pies were meant to be held in the palm of the hand. A golden crust brushed with sugar to glaze the delicate patterns made with the dough. Nyx had one that looked like a leafy basket, crisp pastry browned just enough to be golden in the sun. The rich colour of the mixed berries just a hint beneath the casing. He had found one that was cuter for Noctis, more fitting for his lover; the golden weave of the crust dotted with hearts he had found endearing. The promise from the signs inside the shop suggested that the red, sweet berries inside were a favourite of Tenebrae. They were still warm in his hands; the early trip worth it for the freshness. 

There were small sets of utensils included, but Nyx just pried the pastry from the little tin plate it was in, and relied on the branded napkins to save him if needed. 

“Why do I get the cute one?”

“Because you’re adorable, little star.”


End file.
